


Until The End

by ninazenikcult



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Banter, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I Wrote This While Listening to Hozier's Music, Married Couple, One Shot, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:40:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29312004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninazenikcult/pseuds/ninazenikcult
Summary: The Potters are in hiding from Voldemort, yet despite having the best protection the Order has to offer, James fears for his wife and son.This is a romantic James and Lily one shot from James's POV about his hopes and fears for the furture.
Relationships: James Potter & Lily Evans Potter, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, James/Lily
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Until The End

**Godric's Hollow, October, 1981**

_ If the tide takes California _

_ I'm so glad I got to hold ya _

_ And if the sky falls from heaven above _

_ Oh, I know I had the best time falling into love _

_ We've been living on a fault line _

_ And for a while, you were all mine _

_ I've spent a lifetime giving you my heart _

_ I swear that I'll be yours forever _

_ 'Til forever falls apart _

Lily was standing by the window when James came in. She stared out at the blustery October night with a slight frown creasing her brow as she bit her thumbnail. The warm glow of the fire that crackled in embers in the grate made her hair glow deep wine red. It was soft and clean, rumpled from sleep. He moved to her, his footsteps silenced by the rug.

Her body was tense as he came up behind her, arms wrapping around her slight frame and drawing her to him. James rested his face against her auburn waves, breathing in deeper than usual. She smelled just as she had when he'd first held her in his arms back in the Sixth Year, like sweet cedarwood, cloves and verbena shampoo. It was the scent of a clear autumn day, of spiced peaches, golden brown leaves and morning mist in a forest.

James wished he could bottle it up and get drunk on it each night.

Get drunk on her.

With a jolt of nostalgia, he thought of the times he'd called her _'Evans'_ and she called him _'Potter'._ Back at Hogwarts the two of them had been engaged in an unending dance, mirroring each other step for step, every prevaricating move bringing them closer to the brink of something different. Something that spoke of hazy summer days spent in the shade of a beech tree together, of cold winter night's wrapped in each other's arms and smiles exchanged from across rooms, meant only for the other person.

And then they crossed the brink, and Evans became Lily.

And Lily had become Lily Potter.

Sometimes James liked to say her married name aloud just for the thrill of knowing she was his and he was hers. The syllables were sweet on his tongue, as though steeped in cherry wine.

The crescent of her body tucked against him as though they were two halves of the same whole, each made for the other. He was several inches taller than her and his body covered hers, as though shielding her from some invisible force. With a sigh, she clasped onto his arms that wrapped across her body. James's shirt sleeves were pushed up to the elbows and she stroked up his forearms, the warm skin and hard muscle. The slight pressure of her skin against his was reassuring. She was here in his arms. For now, it was the two of them against it all.

They stood there for several moments, holding each other as they stared into the darkness, both of them wondering the same thing; _where is Voldemort now_?

Thoughts of He Who Must Not Be Named, his morbid crusade and the trail of death and darkness he left in his wake were easier to push away during the day. That was when the stone cottage in Godric's Hollow was flooded with crisp autumn sunshine and Harry's gurgling laughter filled the air. It was easy to forget that there was a war raging across the Wizarding World when the biggest concern of the day was making sure Harry didn't smash the vase Petunia gave Lily for Christmas the previous year, no matter how utterly vile the thing was, as he zoomed around on the toy broomstick Sirius had given him.

But when the shadows crept up, snaking around their home and seeping through the cracks in the walls, it was as if the ticking of a bomb had begun.

Lily raised a hand to continue chewing her nail but James caught her wrist, his long fingers deftly twinging with hers. Her nails were bitten down to tiny stubs, the cuticles raw and stitched with hangnails.

James's heart swelled in his throat at the sight.

The thought that she was so consumed by terror, by worry for their family, by fear for their lives… it made James want to break something. Not simply cry _'reducto'_ , but to tear something apart with his bare hands, to feel it break beneath his fingers.

The thought of anyone hurting Lily or Harry…

James pulled her closer.

He leaned down to trace kisses along her collarbone and slowly up her neck, pausing at the juncture below her ear where her heartbeat thrummed reassuringly. His lips then chartered upwards, across her jaw and cheeks. When he was young and stupid, before he and Lily exchanged anything more than sharp quips and competitive flirtations, James had never cared for kissing that much. It was always a means to an end, something that always led up to something more. Sex, usually. But with Lily, he could kiss her forever and he would never grow bored of his.

She reached up a hand, running her fingers lazily through his rumpled black hair. A soft moan vibrated in her throat and James swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep his hands around her waist and fingers entwined with hers. If he let his hands drop below her waist— nope, not going there. He couldn't think straight with those kinds of thoughts.

She pulled away and turned to face him, her arms circling around his neck, and stood on her toes so they were almost eye level.

Her smile was tired but true.

Once James had realised that her smile was the only one he cared to win, he'd studied it at every opportunity. Her vivid green eyes softened with her smile. It made the breath catch in his throat like it was the first and last time he would ever get to see it.

Well, in these dark times there was always a possibility that the next smile would be their last.

"How was Harry?" she asked.

"He's fine," James murmured, leaning down to press a kiss on his wife's forehead. "Sleeping now, thank goodness. He wanted another go on Padfoot's broom before bed." He grinned at the memory of Harry's hiccuping laugh as he shot across the nursery and scared the cat. Those were the moments he clung to. Moments when he was reminded of what life was going to be like when the War was over. There would be days full of laughter, full of his family, full of life. He thought of all the days he would have, just himself, Lily and Harry. There would be time for his friends, time for it all, but James wished hardest for days just spent with his wife and son.

"He's going to make a great Seeker one day," James continued confidently.

"You would say that." Her eyes danced, bright with happiness. Everytime he caught a glimpse of her joy, his heart squeezed with the relief of knowing that this War would not take the light from his Lily.

"His turns were a little ham-fisted, but we can work on that."

Lily laughed and James clung to the sound. "You are aware he's fifteen months old, aren't you?"

"Yes, but age isn't an excuse for sloppy corners." She rolled her eyes and he bit back a laugh.

"If I didn't know you were joking, I'd hex you."

"Are you flirting with me? I feel like you're flirting with me."

"We're _married_ ," she replied, twining her arms around his neck.

He ran his hands up and down the curve of her waist, drawing her hips to him and kissing her deeply as she arched into his touch. "Trust me, sweetheart, I am acutely aware of that fact," he said against her lips.

"So I'm still allowed to flirt with you?"

"Oh absolutely. You know what a turn-on it is when you threaten to curse me."

Lily leaned back against the windowsill, James standing between her legs. "Trust me, sweetheart," she winked, "I am acutely aware of that fact." She glanced up at the ceiling and James knew why; Harry's bedroom. "Did you read to him before he went to sleep?"

"Yes, but ' _The Wizard and the Hopping Pot_ ' not ' _Sleeping Beauty and the Six Goblins_ ' or whatever nonsense you gave me."

She punched him in the shoulder. "That's not the title and you know it." He did but he enjoyed watching her fight her laughter. "Did he like it?"

"Mixed signals," James replied vaguely.

Lily cocked a brow. "Mixed signals? Remember the part where we established our son is fifteen months old? What I mean is, did he cry or did he laugh?"

"If you must know, he set the book on fire."

"Of course he did. And did he have a partner in that particular crime?"

"If you are suggesting that I assisted Harry in arson, I absolutely did not. Did I find Harry's anarchic rejection of classic wizarding literature amusing? Absolutely. Anyway, he can't help it. When I was his age I'd dyed mum's cat blue."

"You should never be used as a metric for normality. Society would crumble."

James considered that before shrugging, "Yeah, okay, that's fair."

"But I'm glad that he takes after you," she said, staring up at him with those big eyes, so green that they looked like cut chips of emerald. "I just hope he skips your mullet phase."

"It wasn't that bad."

"Yes it was."

"Okay, that's also fair." James sighed, trying to picture Harry as anything but a gurgling baby with chubby little fists and a penchant for toy broomsticks. It was almost inconceivable. The thought of his son growing up hit James squarely in the chest. He cleared his throat. "He makes more trouble than any baby I've ever met." He paused thoughtfully. "Though in the spirit of presenting a balanced argument, he is the _only_ baby I've ever met."

Lily grinned, her thumbs gliding over the base of his neck and sending gooseflesh all over his body. "Troublemaker? Divine justice, I say."

"Justice is a cruel mistress," James agreed thoughtfully.

"I think the phrase is ' _fate is a cruel mistress_ ,'" she corrected with the patient tone she usually reserved for trying to coax Harry into trying new vegetables.

" _You_ are a cruel mistress," James said with a tragic sigh.

She bit her lip to stop herself from laughing.

"And _you're_ still a troublemaker it seems."

He pulled an exaggeratedly sultry face. "Mrs. Potter, would you like to see how much of a troublemaker I really am?"

Lily returned his devilish smile, standing on her toes and leaning in close to him. Her soft curves pressed against him in a way that made it impossible for James to think straight. She leaned her face in close, their lips just a breath away. "I think it's you who needs the reminder about me."

He laughed again, though this time the sound was laced with suggestion. "Trust me, I know. Remember in seventh year when we were in the astronomy tower and you agreed to—"

"Yes, a fond memory but not one I need reminding of," Lily cut him off, flashing him a warning look that only deepened his impish grin.

His hand moved absently to her hair, winding a silky lock around one knuckly finger. She leaned into the touch, brushing her cheek against his open palm. James dropped his forehead to hers, hazel eyes flickering shut. One strong arm remained circled around her waist, the other cupped her cheek.

It had been years since their first kiss, though each time his lips pressed against hers, it was like the first all over again.

James couldn't help but wonder how many kisses time would permit before the curtain dropped on a darkened theatre stage and there would be no more kisses, no more stolen touches or quiet moments shared between him and the girl he'd loved since he was eleven.

How much longer until there was nothing but darkness?

 _No_ , he told himself firmly, _don't think like that. You can keep them safe. You have to keep them safe._

James pulled back to look at her face and she stared back at him, her face all knowing.

"Tell me the first thing you're going to do when this is all over," she murmured, stroking her hand over his cheek. He could see the longing in her green eyes, recognised it because he felt the same ache for sunlight and fresh air and long summer nights free of shadows.

"Take you and Harry to a duck pond." The response was automatic and Lily laughed, the sound slightly choked.

"Why?"

"Because I want to put Harry in a pram and take him outside so he can see the sky beyond our garden. I want to walk with you and kiss you surrounded by trees and grass and flowers and fresh air. Because I want to live again. Even if it's just feeding some ducks at a pond."

"That's lovely," she said, her voice constricted with tears. "We will feed those ducks, you hear me, James Potter? We _will_." And he knew she wasn't just reassuring him.

"We will," he murmured, dropping his forehead to hers. "I love you."

"I love you too," she said. There was such raw conviction in her tone that James wanted to pull her against his chest once more. Instead he looked into her eyes. "But I'm scared," she whispered. Her voice was raw, like the words were pulled from some dark corner of her heart she'd rather keep buried. "I love you and I'm scared all the time. I'm scared about losing you or Harry. It was Marlene last week—" she choked on a sob and James wrapped his arms around her tight as though she might melt into his skin.

"I won't let that happen, love," he said fiercely. "He won't win this." Her shoulders trembled and he dipped his head to the crook of her neck, whispering against her skin, "Can't get rid of me that easily, Evans. Besides, I'm not done annoying you yet. You've got at least another seventy-odd years of that to look forward to."

She laughed a ragged, hiccuppy laugh. "I don't ever want to get rid of you." Lily paused, a tear tracing a silvery streak down her skin. He brushed it away with his thumb, throat tight with emotion as she breathed, "You'll stay with me, won't you?"

In that moment James knew that he would set the world on fire if he had to, never letting the flames touch her.

His lips pressed against hers, the embrace containing the unspoken vow of forever.

"Until the end," James Potter whispered to the girl he knew he would love until his last breath, no matter when that time came.

**Author's Note:**

> i write these because i love this world more than i can say and these characters own my heart, so any reviews or interactions with the post are so, so, SO appreciated 
> 
> also i know marlene canonically died in july but i moved it to october for convenience's sake :)


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